Demons
by Counterfeit God
Summary: Sephiroth has been avoiding Zack. When Zack shows up to help with a mission, the General is forced to deal with what he has been running from. Zack isn't about to make it any easier on him. Sephiroth/Zack. Yaoi.
1. Avoidance Never Pays

Author's Note: Long time no see, if I have any friends left... This should be a short story---only a few chapters, I should think. And yes, I'm sure there's going to be a _scene_, so if you can't/won't read that kind of thing then there's not much purpose in reading any further. As always, criticism is much appreciated.

Dedicated to Alex, who inspired me to write more absolute garbage. He bought me a yaoi "wank mag" (as he calls it) for Christmas, and teased me with the photos, which started this. It's all your fault. Damn you.

* * *

The rain came down, as thunderous as the marching feet that it fell to. Even the mud was not enough to cancel out that pounding sound, the rhythm of those bodies, steps in sync all the way down a seemingly endless procession, as they did a morning drill.

The sky was an ugly grey streaked with black---a void---sunless and bleak. Everything stunk of filth and unwashed bodies and blood. His boots were already covered in caked mud, with even his coat painted with a dried spray of muck from the day previous.

He was the weary specter that stood to the side like a vision, almost, one as soggy as the canvas tents that had housed them for the night, but nonetheless a kind of inspiration that could not be lessened by anything, even atrocious conditions. He was something unreal and untouchable, draped in a mess of wet, knotted, silver hair and black leather. It would be easy to say that something so extraordinary did not belong.

They seemed to flinch under his unwavering gaze, as though they could not take it. All were tired and worn from many sleepless nights and days of warfare, and were only shadows of what they had been when they had started. They looked haggard, he noted, unshaven, eyes lined with the blue-purple that was symptomatic of sleeplessness.

They were all his, but he felt even less for them than ever. He wanted to turn away from them, to abandon them to their fate in this horrible world he didn't understand. He felt so distant from it all, even when the arch of blood was caused by his sword, even when it was his voice that harshly gave out the orders and decided fate.

He was not a god, only a man with power. He still believed there was a difference.

"Sir, you have a call."

It took a moment for the words to cut through his troubled thoughts. It took even longer for him to decide to acknowledge them. Staring out at his men, tonelessly, he answered:

"Fine. I'll take it."

A 2nd handed him a phone, hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. The General had been quieter and more distant than usual for what seemed weeks. He was not himself. His men sensed it, and did what they could to placate him by bothering him as little as possible.

It was a bit of a tragedy, the 2nd thought, that the one man who kept them grounded was not fully with them when they desired his level-headedness and calm reassurance most. Even the slightest encouragement had not fallen on their ears since the beginning of the campaign.

"General?" It echoed from the phone loudly enough that he could hear it over the toiling of his SOLDIERs.

"Director Lazard," he answered, recognizing the voice.

Sephiroth breathed in the scent of wet earth. His eyes were still transfixed on the men.

"I'm sending the new 1st, Zack Fair to you in a few hours. He'll be relieving one of the commanding officers of your choosing."

He blinked, eyes gone stormy instantaneously. "I don't think that is necessary." He said it even as he watched his SOLDIERs lifelessly go through their morning routine.

"Commander Hewley has requested it."

"I believe my influence still outweighs Commander Hewley's, does it not?" It wasn't a question, and even the General found himself surprised by his own words.

He could hardly recall a time when he had ever so much as questioned something Angeal did, let alone an indirect order. He had often mused that he respected the man's opinions more than his own. He had been out too long, he knew, spent too much time on his own, letting his darker parts take over. He felt as though he was on autopilot.

The last thing he needed, however, was to spend his time looking out for Fair. Zack was an excellent SOLDIER---the General had never denied that---but because he was a favorite of the Commander, it required that extra precautions were taken when it came to his welfare. The young SOLDIER would get in the way when he needed to be focusing on other things, like putting a stop to the mission sooner rather than later. He couldn't do that half so proficiently with Zack tagging along.

It was more than just that, Sephiroth knew. He nearly cringed, his grip on the phone tightening enough that the smooth leather of his gloves creaked against the plastic. His eyes closed momentarily. The General's self-control had been terrible as of late, and someone like Fair would only worsen his lack of it. They had too much of a history.

He hated to think of it, but he had been avoiding the boy, knowingly.

"He believes it will be in Fair's best interest, and I have to say that I agree with him. Fair has not been in any similar situations and he has yet to be in charge of his own troops," the Director stated, always using logic, the best weapon anyone had against the General's stubbornness. As an afterthought, he added: "He will be quite an asset."

Sephiroth sighed, the action more out of irritation than relief. "Have it your way."

With that, he ended the call, handing the phone back to the SOLDIER who had patiently waited beside him.

"Please have it passed on to Wesson that he is being replaced. Tell him to have his things ready by evening."

* * *

By the afternoon, Sephiroth had a strategy planned for the next move, which would occur within a few days. They were still on the outskirts of Wutai, having retreated to the more uninhabitable regions while they recouped before making the final assault of their mission.

It was nearly under Shin-Ra's control as it was; the whole of the place was peppered with the signs of the new influence. It was now only a matter of fully persuading the last dregs of the Resistance to lay down arms and accept that Wutai was officially Shin-Ra property for the extraction of mako.

He didn't agree with what was being done, but he had never stopped to consider how that might impact his mood during the mission. He did what must be done, always, plain and simple. His personal feelings toward the takeover were hardly important. It had always been that way; it had to be. There was no room for humanity.

Zack had made quite a name for himself with his last mission. Sephiroth kept tabs on him, not only for Angeal's sake, but out of personal interest. Yes, it would be a good opportunity to learn the ins and outs of leadership for the newly-appointed 1st class, as Lazard had said, but he still did not necessarily want to be stuck with Fair.

It was as he was checking the perimeter, that he heard a helicopter through the non-stop onslaught of rain. The others heard it much later than he did. He hadn't expected anyone to try to brave the storm by air. He had assumed Fair had been nearby and would come in a vehicle; the 1st had been in Wutai not long ago, after all.

He brushed a wet lock from his vision, blinking rapidly through the rain.

Damn Fair, damn him to hell.

* * *

"How much longer do you think we'll be?"

It was Fair's voice, curious as always. The General's back was to him, but even so, he could sense the movement of a hand mussing black hair. Sephiroth did not turn, his eyes staring out at a copse of trees rather than his men, or even Zack. He had not even bothered to see Wesson off, or greet his replacement. Within only a few minutes, Angeal's favored student had already found him; it was hardly unpredictable. He doubted the 1st had even seen to getting his things put away. Fair had always been terribly impatient.

"A few weeks, at the most. I have made it a priority to finish the campaign as soon as possible."

A nod. "Right."

Zack's tone had lost a bit of its enthusiasm as he glanced over the back of the General's coat. Rain had beaded on its surface, and he watched the droplets trail down.

He hated how awkward this was. He was angry at Sephiroth for making it that way. And to worsen things, he was certain the man had been completely avoiding him the last month. He was sure it was only because of Angeal's gentle shove that he was even on the same mission in the first place.

When Sephiroth said nothing more, gave him no orders or brief, the 1st nearly turned away, aggravated. But as he continued to think about it, watching the way the man completely ignored him, his bluntness came to him.

"Isn't it a little dumb to keep ignoring me like this?" he questioned, so shocked by his own boldness that his eyes widened.

A sigh. The creak of leather as shoulders tensed. The silver head seemed to bow slightly, in . . . determination?

"The least you could do is look at me," Zack said defiantly, becoming ever the more daring with each passing second that he got no response.

The 1st couldn't see Sephiroth's eyes close, but they did for an instant before he finally turned to look over his shoulder.

"It's done with, _Fair_, let it lie." It was an order, tinged with an anger that nearly made Zack flinch.

He couldn't recall the last time the General had not only used his last name to address him, but said it in that way. What bothered him was that it seemed almost hateful. What had he ever done to the man, really? Sephiroth was the one who had fled.

"Well it doesn't seem like you are '_letting it lie'_."

He swallowed compulsively when in an instant, the older man was facing him. The rain had started again, rolling down the slightly tanned face, then dripping off the chin. His expression was so vacant, that Zack had to steel himself for a moment to keep from stepping back. Sephiroth's eyes were stark against it all, bringing life to something that appeared lifeless.

"I don't have time for this," he said dismissively, words laced with vitriol. "You will do what you came to do. Other interactions outside this mission are unnecessary and unwanted."

The General brushed past him without waiting for a reply.


	2. Distrust

Author's Note: This chapter is shorter, apologies, but it felt like a stand-alone one to me. Much love to my reviewers! I wouldn't write at all if I didn't have encouragement. As always, feel free to point out inconsistencies if you see them; I don't use a beta. Forgive me!

* * *

The night was yet another stormy one. A front had rolled in from the coast, creating a world of rolling waves around the island of Wutai.

Everything was damp. He was in one of the larger tents of the encampment, talking with a few of the other SOLDIERs. They were all wilted, nothing left but grit and rather depressed countenances. The atmosphere was already sinking into to Zack's skin, he could feel it. Though he wasn't friends with hardly any of the other members of SOLDIER, he still felt terrible for them, and their mood had definitely already permeated through the optimistic one he had arrived with.

One of the men toward the end of the table spoke up, finally, having been silent for most of the conversation, which up to that point had been nothing but small talk, mostly about the storm.

"You can tell it's getting to him," the SOLDIER said quietly.

One of the others frowned, giving the SOLDIER a look of warning. Zack was not exactly one of the inner circle. Even if he was going to be one of their new leaders, he was Angeal's student and therefore closer to the General than any of them would ever be. Talking about the man in front of someone in that position wasn't wise.

"What do you mean?" Zack asked, suddenly interested.

He was standing a bit off to the side, arms crossed over his chest. It was a gesture he'd accidentally adopted from spending so much time with Angeal. He felt like an outsider with this group of men; he hadn't had the best of interactions with some of them, though he only knew a handful of their names.

This seemed to bolster the man who had spoken, because he quickly continued: "He's not himself. You've seen it, haven't you? Don't you know the General better than the rest of us? He _is_friends with Angeal."

"I've only been here for a few hours," the 1st replied somewhat defensively. "I'm sure the General is fine."

Zack wasn't about to say anything about Sephiroth, regardless of their current situation. But yes, the man had seemed very . . . off. And the display of anger had been almost out of character. The General was certainly moody---even Angeal had attested to that, but he rarely showed his troubles so openly. What exactly was going on?

He was beginning to suspect that there was more to it than he originally thought. Maybe something else had happened that he wasn't aware of?

"He isn't fine. He's barely even spoken to the lot of us. He gives orders then disappears."

Several of those in attendance gave slight nods of agreement, but no one voiced anything; they were too wary of speaking against their leader, even in a private setting.

"Sephiroth is human like the rest of us. I'm sure he is getting concerned about how long you have all been out here," he stated, not quite sure if was the right thing to say.

He would have said 'because Sephiroth told me he wanted to get you out of here', but that was something said in confidence, wasn't it? It seemed like to the General, no matter what he said, it was always the wrong thing. That thought bothered him. What would Sephiroth think now, of what he had just told all these men?

What was strange, was that Zack was to the point where he was focused more on impressing Sephiroth than even his mentor. The man avoiding him had definitely been something constantly on his mind.

"I don't think so. He doesn't even seem to care that we're here half the time! He sent Harvey on a suicide mission to get himself blown up." The SOLDIERs tone was rising with anger, and his face had reddened.

At those words, a hostility had been birthed into the room, one long harbored in the SOLDIERs' minds, but yet to be fully acknowledged publicly.

"Harvey?"

"Yes, one of my friends. The General sent him into a cavern underneath one of the castles we were attempting to take. It was riddled with mines."

Zack's look changed to one of disbelief. "That's not his fault. How could he know?"

"You're new to this boy, so let me explain it to you," one of the older SOLDIERs said, eyeing him with distaste. "The General always goes first, it's a rule. His senses are keener than ours are. But he sent this guy in without so much as even having us take a look beforehand. I doubt the General had even checked the location out himself, or this might not of happened. Harvey was alone---which he shouldn't of been---and he must of tripped something. Well, kaboom, guts everywhere, and you know how that goes."

Everyone had gone very still. Zack stared at the tabletop through the silence, and had begun to shake his head.

It took a moment before he could manage something, some kind of argument. He had never been very good at this kind of thing. "Everyone makes mistakes," he countered, because it was all he could think of.

"Mistakes that get men killed? It was a rookie's mistake not something a seasoned General would do."

"I didn't mean it that way!" Zack replied loudly. His hand combed through his hair, instinctively. Hearing them speak against Sephiroth so openly was beginning to get him angry. No one had even tried to defend the man. "The General is, above all, human. I don't think any of us have any idea how hard his job must be." After a moment, he continued: "How many groups was he supervising that day, anyway?" he asked, intent on proving a point.

There were some grumbles, and a few of the men whispered to one another. Zack waited, making eye contact all the way down the line.

"There were ten or eleven that day," one of the men said guiltily, not even looking at his comrades. "And he was doing something else on his own."

Zack found himself shaking his head for the second time. "Well, I think you can all see where I'm coming from---where he's coming from. I don't think anyone has the right to say that the General doesn't care about his men. He wouldn't be here if he didn't."

And Zack believed it, or at least, he thought he did. He hoped he did.

* * *

Sephiroth was brooding, a long-fingered hand curled around a chipped coffee mug. Instead of coffee, however, was one of the foul-tasting SOLDIER supplement drinks. Steam rose up from the marred cup, very much visible. It was going to be quite a cold night, he could feel it already.

He was examining yet another map, trying to find holes in his strategy. The problem was not so much in how it would be executed, but in the fact that the terrain was new to him. He did not know the ins and outs of it as the Wutai troops would. He had still not been able to walk across it to crystallize it in his mind.

That was the way war worked on enemy soil; there were so many mistakes that would take place because the area was unfamiliar. He had, however, flown over it before. He had spent many nights trying to pull the threads of those memories close to him, close enough for him to get a mental image of it that he felt justified sending his men forward.

He took another drink, swallowing down the bitterness as though he didn't taste it.

The way he was handling the situation with Zack was childish, he knew, but that hadn't stopped him. He was hardly in the state of mind to attempt repairing whatever had gone wrong.

And what exactly had gone wrong?

_You got scared_.

He put down the mug, and folded the map unceremoniously before tossing it onto a stack of the hand-drawn layouts he'd been working on for days.

He hated to admit it, but it was the truth, wasn't it? It had frightened him. He had been trying for the entirety of his absence from Midgar, to figure out what his reaction had been, and finally, seeing Zack again had answered his question.

It was so ironic he couldn't help it. He laughed into the silence, a deep, joyless sound he hadn't heard in years. He even began to smile, his head falling into a hand. His hands were gloveless, so he could feel the dampness as he curled one into a fist, which painfully pulled at the knotted, silken strands.

The whole thing was ridiculous. How could he have ever imagined something so stupid could work?

It took a moment, but the laughing died down, crushed by the harshness of that reality.

It seemed impossible to feel so incredibly hollow.


	3. Politics

Author's note: I 'borrowed' someone else's computer to get this out. I also work full-time at the oddest hours, which is why it will take me a bit between chapters, just so you know. :D Thanks to the folks who were kind enough to review so far, that would be: dreamysherry, ladysubaru83, Madisuzy, CornCob, DameNosferatu, and kittycatsnak.

* * *

"Sephiroth?" Zack inquired, craning his head around the flap that served as a door.

"Yes?"

How one word could convey so much was beyond the 1st. It was angry and irritated and tired at the same time. It sent a shiver of foreboding over him. Nonetheless, he refused to be so easily intimidated, and pushed his way into the tent anyway.

It was lower to the ground than the others, and much more organized. Instead of piles of dirty uniforms and blankets, everything was neatly stacked, except for one small, foldout table with a mess of papers atop it. He could see the General's perfect script lining all the margins. Battle plans? They looked like maps of some sort, among other things. There was also a small lantern hanging from the ceiling, the light yellowed, but faintly warm. A laptop was closed, laid off to the side, bearing the Shin-Ra SOLDIER emblem.

"What is it, Fair?"

It wasn't until the voice made itself heard, that Zack managed to bring his attention back to the man in front of him; he wondered if he would be involved in any of it at all---that battle plans, that was.

"I sent a few of the men to do a quick check around our camp. I just thought you should know," he said quietly.

He was doing his best to take his duties as seriously as possible. It was the first time he was ever granted control over a group and he did not want to screw it up. He wanted the General to know he was taking the job on, not shirking it like he figured the man would expect of him. He would do things by the book, even if it wasn't his favored approach.

"There's no need for you to tell me; they are your men now," Sephiroth answered calmly, some of the venom having disappeared from his tone, though it was still present. "Unless they are outside of this encampment, it is your responsibility to ensure they are safe. If we were to be attacked, I would expect you to take command of them and get them organized without my assistance."

Zack nodded, never one for formalities. His arms had crossed over his chest again, and his eyes didn't leave the General's.

"Holistically, I plan our approach, however, once I give you orders you are to do with them what you will. Each of your men will be counting on you to make intelligent decisions---this isn't the place to be getting everyone killed," he added sharply, pupils narrowing a fraction, even in the low light.

"I know," Zack answered, looking more worried than he had a few seconds earlier. "I'll have the others to help me though, right?"

"Yes, the other 1sts will be there to help you. I have already spoken to them though, and it was decided that you'll be given more influence than the rest for the time being. Keep in mind they will step in if things get dangerous. You need this experience; the others have had enough of it already."

This vote of confidence surprised Zack. It seemed completely at odds with their earlier encounter. At times, it was as though Sephiroth didn't trust him at all.

"I'll do my best," the 1st said.

The General did not answer, only studying him harshly. His silver hair was duller than usual, hanging over his shoulders limply, still soaked through from the rain. He hadn't been inside long. Briefly, Zack wondered where he had been.

"Can I ask you something?" he blurted, before he lost his nerve.

Sephiroth continued to bore into him. "You will ask regardless of how I reply."

Zack swore there was a glimmer of amusement in the older man's eyes, but it died out quickly, smothered by the inner coldness that had added lines to his face. The General looked to be made of stone.

"You don't believe in this war, do you?"

It was like something shattering. What had been a stoic look turned to a frown, green eyes narrowed, averting their gaze to the floor. Even Sephiroth's posture had stiffened; and everything about him seemed to give the answer without meaning to.

"Get out," the General said flatly.

"What?"

It happened so quickly, Zack hardly understood. The man had gone from confused and troubled, to furious in an instant. His emerald eyes were back to their icy stare, and his mouth had thinned from lips being pressed too tightly together.

"Out." Biting. Commanding.

"But…I---" He stumbled over his words, not sure what he had done or what boundary he had crossed.

"My personal feelings on the matter are irrelevant. Now get out."

Zack felt an impetuousness rising in him. He wanted to know now. He had to know. Was that why the man was acting so distant and cold, why the other SOLDIERs were losing confidence in him?

"So you don't, then? So why fight for it?" His voice wavered, but he still managed to get out what he needed to say.

The way the General was looking at him was enough to make him want to obey and leave as he had been told, but at the same time, it hurt because it was so bitterly accusing, as though he were at fault for something.

"Just leave."

"No Sephiroth, I need to know. Why are you here if you don't believe in it?"

The man had risen from his chair in one fluid action, more imposing than ever. "It's my duty as a SOLDIER. You receive commands, you follow them, that is how it works. There is no questioning involved in that process."

He didn't have to speak loudly for his words to be as frightening as any yell. Zack had lost the physical confidence that showed before, shrinking away from the General's very presence. Even so, he still did not leave.

"You shouldn't fight for something you think is wrong," the 1st stated rebelliously, refusing to back away, even as Sephiroth began to approach him.

"That is something Angeal would say."

"And if he said it instead of me, would you believe him?"

Through the icy exterior, a slight smile broke through, but it was dark and ominous, relaying more than any words possibly could. There was an attempt at a laugh, though it was short and humorless, dying in the General's throat.

"You know little of war, and even less of what it means to hold the lives of others' within your hands. I don't expect you to understand any of this."

"You care about them though, don't you? You watch out for them," Zack argued, though he was quiet about it, not bold enough to speak above a whisper.

"They come and go. You have to learn to live with that."

"You care enough to not want them to die fighting here," he countered again, knowing he was getting through for once.

"That may be, but it makes me no hero. They were enthusiastic when we set out to destroy Wutai. I have killed many, but that hardly means I am willing to watch entire civilizations be torn apart for the sake of extracting mako energy from their lands."

"We're going to make their lives better."

Sephiroth finally did laugh, but again it was only a shadow of the thing. "Yes, that is always the goal of Shin-Ra, is it not? Forgive me for thinking that you might attempt to look deeper rather than mindlessly going by what you are told."

"But we'll leave them intact. They resisted, that's the only reason we're fighting, isn't it?" the 1st questioned, suddenly conflicted.

He had been wondering from the very start whether or not Shin-Ra really improved peoples' lives, because so far, all he had seen were lives destroyed. He believed because he knew not what else to do. He had always assumed it was beyond his understanding and what he was seeing was only a fragment of the entire picture.

"We all must believe Shin-Ra is doing right. If we did not, we would not be able to survive," Sephiroth asserted blandly, his eyes unblinking.

Zack scowled, shaking his head. "I don't get it. Why would we all be fighting if it wasn't right?"

"People desire power, Zack. That is the only reason. We get it from belonging, they get it from owning. We are nothing but tools to be used. You will either accept that and do your job, or not." The acid was still there, but something else was coupled with it.

His name. The General had used his first name. The 1st didn't make any response, and for once, was quiet. Sephiroth had lost some of his anger, his voice going into lower, sadder tones. Zack would have never suspected it possible. It was one of the first occasions the man had truly opened up to him. He wasn't sure what to think of any of it.

There was a long silence, where they both only examined one another. Then, Sephiroth spoke: "I don't believe it is healthy that you and I have any more contact outside of what is required of us. After this mission, I would request that you no longer come to see me for anything personal."

"More healthy for you, or for me?" Zack asked, suddenly feeling anxious.

How much time had they spent together each week before it had all happened? A few hours at the most? He to force his way in the entire way---Sephiroth had fought it openly, rarely even agreeing to spend time with him. Even then, Zack had still tried to remain optimistic. They were friends at least, and that was something. But he had always felt a bit like a burden, like something the General was only tolerating. He had been ignoring that as much as he could, because it really did make him feel awful.

"I think you know the answer to that question."

The General turned away then, slowly going back to whatever he had been working on. It was when he sat down, that Zack realized the conversation was over. He stood there silently, urging himself to say something, but his thoughts were failing him.

"You can leave now," Sephiroth finished, again back to being an impenetrable wall of stone.

It was like the curtain had closed. There was something between them now, a barrier that had come up again, one that never failed to ruin everything. The coldness of the man in front of him was enough to make him give up for the time being.

It felt like an impossible fight each time he tried desperately to find the buried parts of Sephiroth that were still human.

But they were there, and that's what counted.


	4. Fallen

Author's note: This took awhile, and may have inconsistencies since it was written in small chunks over a few weeks. As always, point out anything that doesn't add up, if you will. I quite appreciate it. Thanks for being patient with me, as my updates are going to continue to be unpredictable. :(

Thanks to my reviewers! I write for you, to be truthful. This chapter is dedicated to: Dame Nosferatu, CornCob, Bri, dreamysherry, Madisuzy, AB, and ChasingProse.

* * *

The next morning the rain had lightened considerably. The sky, however, was still a whorl of greys and blacks. Some of the tents had filled with water, and more than one SOLDIER had slept in wet linens. Many woke with sore throats and coughs, which did nothing to rid the camp of its melancholy mood. Zack, too, had slept terribly, though it had little to do with the weather.

He tried in vain to swallow down one of the rations. It was a congealed brick of nutrients that was beyond unappetizing, even when struggled through with some bland, black coffee with the grinds floating around the bottom of the cup. The grit crunched in his teeth, getting stuck in his molars like bits of dark sand. He conceded that the so-called 'food' was inedible, and went off to see the men.

It was an uneventful morning all around, though he heard early on that Sephiroth had left and wouldn't be returning until evening. That left him and the others to mind the encampment. He was more than a little bothered by the fact that he hadn't been told, but there was nothing that could be done about it. He decided to make the best of the situation, keeping the men busy with trying to improve their living conditions. Zack didn't understand why it was they were taking so long to make a move on the weakened Wutai, but he figured the General had his reasons.

Wouldn't it be wiser to attack immediately, rather than give the Wutai time to not only discover their position, but prepare for a full-on assault?

Unless Sephiroth was postponing it for some reason…

That was a thought. Would the man really sabotage the whole war because he didn't believe in it?

Zack was seriously beginning to wonder if he himself even believed in it. Since the night previous, it had not left his thoughts, though he had avoided taking a real stance on it. He had never been one to really think things through, he instead just took action. But if it had impacted the General as much as it seemed to, it had to be important, right?

What if all he was fighting for was really a lie? Could he fight for something that could be so terribly wrong?

He tried not to focus on that idea, occupying himself with looking through some of the maps of the area he had been given. It was boring, mind-numbingly so, but it was better than getting angry and confused over the whole thing. He didn't need to think about it; he didn't want to think about it. The conversation with the General had only deepened his own insecurities about Shin-Ra and what he was personally doing.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was just a SOLDIER with a job to do-Sephiroth had said as much. Thinking about it was something he shouldn't have been doing at all. But still… It felt so wrong. He knew he wouldn't be able to ignore it for long. He had a conscience, and he refused to think of that as a bad thing.

He still struggled to think of himself as a good person, even after some of the things he had done for Shin-Ra.

By the time all light had been leeched from the sky, Sephiroth had still not returned. Zack had quickly grown restless by evening and was even worse when most of the men retired to their tents. He was unsure of himself, though he would never openly show it, and he didn't like being without the General nearby.

The men certainly didn't trust him like they did Sephiroth; some of them probably even hated him. It would be chaotic if something were to happen. What if the men didn't listen to him or the others? They were even questioning their own General, so it was pretty clear they wouldn't have much faith in any of their other leaders. It was yet another thing he did not want to really think about.

He tried to sleep, but his thoughts wouldn't leave him. He was anxious for some reason, and he wasn't sure why. He usually could shrug things off, but for some reason he wasn't able to, and continued shifting and pulling at the blankets for at least a good hour, trying to find rest in vain.

Then as he was laying there, he felt a chill creep into his tent. The cold night air touched his face lightly, like a cold hand's caress. Suddenly he tensed, fingers automatically latching onto his sword, which was buried underneath the blankets beside him.

He felt his heart-rate increase, blood pumping through him so harshly he could feel it beneath his skin. The metal of his sword was cool and reassuring, even as his grip tightened.

"Zack."

The General's voice. The 1st swallowed loudly, his muscles cramping as he instantly relaxed, slumping into the comfort of his bedding.

"You scared me. I thought someone had gotten into the camp," he said, sounding breathless.

"Were you troubled by my leaving?" Sephiroth questioned.

Zack could sense the man moving further into the tent, though there was nothing but silence. He was always amazed by how Sephiroth could move; he had a grace that few others possessed. Even Genesis was not able to be so invisible. The barest of shadows loomed over him, and he could just make out the outline of a figure.

"Well, yeah," he answered quietly after a moment, not sure where the conversation was going. "I've never had to give this many orders before."

There was an audible sigh.

"I wasn't referring to today," Sephiroth stated.

Zack found himself frowning in the darkness. "I'm not sure I get you."

The 1st had tensed up again, the muscles of his shoulders starting to ache from the strain. Was Sephiroth talking about before? Hadn't he said to 'let it lie'? Zack was confused, waiting for the man to speak.

There was a brief silence. A cough from a nearby tent was the only sound. It was a heavy, uncomfortable sort of quiet that seemed to stretch on for minutes, though it lasted mere seconds. Somehow, the darkness heightened the discomfiture, probably because he couldn't see the General's expression-not that it would have helped much. He was about to say something just to clear the air, but the older man spoke first.

The next words were etched with distinct irritation: "Never mind, then." Curt, finished. It was Sephiroth's way of owning a conversation, as he did all else.

The shadowy figure began to move back toward the entrance, and the 1st instantly bolted upright, blankets bundling at his waist. He had released the sword from his grasp, finally, his hand clammy from fear mingled with nervousness.

"Sephiroth, wait…" Zack scratched at his black hair sheepishly, thankful of the dark for a moment, until he remembered that the General could probably see him anyway. His hand fell limply to his side. "I was-" he paused, for once careful of his words, "-hurt."

He wasn't sure if the man was talking about that one night, but it was his best guess. He was genuinely surprised that Sephiroth had brought it up at all, and that he seemed to have some kind of feelings about. The only thing was, the 1st wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. With Sephiroth, it was very difficult to tell.

The shadow had stopped again. He swore he could feel the warmth coming off of it, and he nearly shivered. He remembered what it felt like to be close to him, like stepping too close to a blazing fire.

"Did you know what you were getting into?"

"Yeah, yeah I did." He couldn't seem to keep his fingers out of his dark hair. "I didn't care," Zack said honestly, his breathing becoming uneven from the sudden onslaught of nervousness.

"And now?"

That voice was deep and reassuring, but at the same time, biting, accusing; vengeful if it didn't get the answer it wanted.

Zack felt one of his fists clench on the blankets. He nearly said 'I don't want to be without you,' but somehow restrained himself. He was sure Sephiroth wanted to hear that he didn't need him, that he was fine with how everything had went and any hard feelings would be gotten over.

"I'm not sorry about it. I'm just sorry that you seem to think it means we can't be …well-" he searched for a less offending word, but could think of none, "-friends."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes," the 1st answered, resolute.

"Fair, I don't want you expecting anything from me," the General said darkly, into the silence.

_**Too late**._

Zack could feel his temper rising. The dismissive way Sephiroth had said it struck a chord in him. He couldn't help but react like he'd been burned.

"How much trouble is it? Is it asking that much to not have to treat me terribly?" he asked, suddenly getting angry. "I get that you don't like me for some reason, that you see me as some kind of burden because I'm Angeal's student, but I would have thought that by now you would at least think of me as better than Hojo."

Sephiroth's tone was cooler than the night air. "You assume to know what I think?"

"I-"

The General quickly interrupted. "You being Angeal's student only makes it more complicated. You are not a burden and I have never said anything to imply that I didn't like you. I think my actions should have demonstrated that clearly by now."

Zack almost wanted to laugh. "All you do is avoid me and ignore me, what am I supposed to think?"

"I have never trained a SOLDIER one-on-one before. Nor have I ever taken one into my bed."

Sephiroth stopped, taking in the silence yet again. His thoughts were as disorganized as the swirling clouds in the sky above, and he did not like it. He could feel his emotions hanging over him like a hazy smoke, choking him, stripping him of his already-shattered control.

A ribbon of moonlight had snuck into the black, falling faintly over the 1st. It caught on the strands of black hair, and covered half the boy's face in shadow. The night breeze toyed with zippered flap of the tent, sometimes sending it billowing inward, making that light waver, making the General lose his concentration as he stared at it blankly. He could smell the storm.

"I have made many exceptions for you," Sephiroth said finally. "I admit that I find it difficult not to."


	5. A Haunting

Author's note: Apologies for the delay. This is turning out very differently from what I originally intended. This is a redone fifth chapter; I completely scrapped the first version.

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The wind was forceful and merciless, tearing at the sturdy canvas tents as though they were made of nothing but the flimsiest of papers. Gusts took the rain with it, sending it hurtling sideways at times, as brutal as bee stings. The men had quickly retreated to any shelter they could find. It was growing colder still, even as the sun should have climbed to its peak in the sky. Thwarted by ominous clouds, no warmth came from above, and the chill in the air had begun to taint the rain, turning it freezing as the day wore on.

Zack was resigned to the fact that he too was going to be stuck in a tent until the storm had its say. The pattering had grown angry and loud, until it was as though the gods were casting stones. Idly he tapped his fingers on the arm of a foldout chair, sighing worriedly. The weather was going to most definitely postpone any plans the General had for advancing-_if_ he had any. The more he thought about it, the more his paranoia ate away at his confidence in Sephiroth's plan. What was he waiting for? Why did he think it was necessary to wait so long to strike when all it did was give the Wutai more time to prepare? Zack respected Sephiroth above all others, but his behavior was questionable. He had never seen the older man so slow to the trigger, so to speak. Fortunately, the newly-appointed 1st's outgoing, positive outlook was keeping him sane for the present. He had faith that Sephiroth knew what he was doing even if the rest of them didn't understand it. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

It was a tempting idea to go to Sephiroth's tent. He wanted to talk to him, _needed_ to. But instead, he didn't move. He had already looked over all the maps, finding nothing of much interest. He couldn't focus like he needed to, not that it had ever been his strong suit in the first place.

"_You need focus. Without it you will fail at everything."_

How long ago had Sephiroth said that to him? It seemed like an age since then.

_Sweat trickled down one of Zack's temples. He was breathing rapidly, raggedly. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, his sword feeling heavy and clumsy in his hands. His shoulders were in agony from swinging the overly-large weapon, the muscles of his back throbbing with the ache of overuse. He was only still standing out of pure stubbornness and a desire to prove to Sephiroth that he was worth as much as Angeal said he was. He couldn't fail either of them. The thought of disappointing the General made his skin prickle. It was surprising, but he found he was even more concerned with Sephiroth's approval than his mentor's. When had that happened?_

_**When you decided you wanted to know what it felt like to kiss Sephiroth**__, his mind chastened. He could feel a heat spread to his face instantly, more out of shame than anything else. _

"_You swing too heavy and become preoccupied when you make a hit. Overconfidence is overshadowing your subsequent attacks. Make every strike with the same focus as your first, as though it could be your last." _

_Sephiroth was not even winded, watching his student intently. His ridiculously long sword was a fraction of an inch from touching the ground, poised to slash without an instant's hesitation. The General's speed was maddeningly inhuman, the streak of silver nothing but a glimmer in the light before it came crashing down. Zack felt like someone had cast slow on him and haste on Sephiroth; their speeds were that far from each other on the spectrum. It was frustrating and tiring, and the man had not said one word of encouragement in the two hours they had been occupying the training room. Every word since they had arrived had felt like crushing criticism or something on the verge of being a personal attack. Zack was becoming exceedingly upset, barely able to concentrate on the training at all. His mind wandering in unwanted directions wasn't helping matters any. _

"_You have worn yourself out because of your wild swings. You aren't even trying," Sephiroth stated accusingly, his eyes dark with dissatisfaction. _

"_I'm trying!" Zack yelled, finally overcome with the hopelessness of the situation. "All I have been doing is trying! But I can't seem to do anything right by you. I'm sorry I'm not as fast, I'm sorry I can't meet your impossible standards. I've only trained with you a few times. Would it be too much to ask for you to give me a break?"_

_Zack felt like he was drained beyond all belief. He wanted nothing more than to disappear, to not have those calculating green eyes on him, observing every flaw and stashing it away to use against him later or throw in his face. Maybe it had been a mistake to think Sephiroth wanted to help him improve; all the man seemed to want to do was tear him apart at the very seams. Even Zack's usual unfaltering self-confidence seemed to have abandoned him after only a few curt words from the General. The man's approval was everything, and to not have it, to be told he wasn't good enough, was the cruelest blow of all._

Zack ran a hand through his unruly hair, still damp from a short stint outside. The memory of that training session was enough to make him cringe, as that was often how their interactions had ended. He always left feeling like a ghost of himself, too tired to really care. Grudgingly, he had to admit that he had learned more in those sessions than in all the time he had ever spent with Angeal. As much as his mentor strived to help him better himself, he was never brutal and unforgiving like the General could be. There was nothing about Sephiroth that was fun and games. Angeal was stern, but he was also caring in his own sense, as distant as he seemed at times, and he wasn't above joking around. But then again, neither was Sephiroth. Not really. But no one knew that.

"_You aren't afraid, are you?" Sephiroth was smiling-genuinely smiling-and his tone was teasing. The expression softened his features, made his gaze seem less hard. _

"_No, why would I be?" the younger man swallowed apprehensively, trying not to make it obvious. _

"_Well, for one, this is rather compromising."_

"_Is it? I didn't notice," Zack answered, attempting nonchalance. _

_He could smell sweat and blood, and it excited him, made him lose what little concentration he had. It was getting difficult to make conversation with Sephiroth only inches from him. He had far too many fantasies in a similar vein to what was happening to even be slightly sure of himself. Too many feelings were flooding his system at once; it felt like a maddening overload. The man always made him feel like a fumbling idiot, no matter what they were doing, but he'd be damned if he let him know it. _

_That's why he shocked himself when he yanked Sephiroth forward without warning, kissing him hard without restraint. Everything seemed to culminate in that moment: fear, anxiety, lust. It was like being thrown headfirst into a wet dream he'd had a thousand times, only to be told it was real. He realized he didn't want to let go._

"Sir?"

Zack looked up, startled by the intrusion. He hadn't even noticed anyone had come in, though he certainly should have. The title 'sir' sounded strange to him, but he ignored it, straightening in his chair, grateful for the papers he'd left in his lap.

"Hey. What's up?" he asked, impressed by how quickly he'd managed to come back to reality.

The SOLDIER seemed taken aback by the greeting and frowned slightly. His uniform was soaked through, more proof that he was not some apparition. He looked worn, his face hollowed from lack of rest and a proper meal. He had a few days' worth of stubble on his chin, making him appear all the more disheveled.

"The General has ordered us to advance. He told me to tell you to prepare and have the troops ready by nightfall."

Zack's response was instantaneous: "What?" It was his turn to frown. "In the middle of a freak storm?" he questioned.

The SOLDIER shrugged as though it was nothing to him. "It's all he said, Sir."

Had Sephiroth officially lost his mind? Anxiety was beginning to coil inside him, writhing uncomfortably in his gut.

What the hell was going on?


	6. Challenging the Devil

AN: It took awhile, but here it is. Plot bunnies came back to bite me in the ass. Reviews are the only reason I've been able to slowly update this, so thank you.

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It was so damn cold. Zack shivered, his SOLDIER issue uniform doing little to keep his skin from feeling the oppressive cold. His clothes were sticking to him, wet and constraining. The ground was a muddy wasteland, and they were all up to their boots in puddles and muck. What was worse was that the rain kept coming. Whatever god had been angered appeared to have no intention of letting off anytime soon.

They lugged their heavy gear, making no protest because the General was trailing behind them. He seemed wary, and had spoken even less than usual. Zack watched him from the corner of his vision. Sephiroth kept a steady pace behind the rest of the pack. It was something akin to watching a wolf run with the cattle; the 1st would catch a glint-that metallic shine of enhanced eyes-then it would be gone again. The General ghosted them, sometimes approaching, other times drawing back, as though not quite certain of his own intentions.

Sephiroth's eyes had always been different. Predator eyes, some called them. It was like shining a light on a lion in the dark; they had that mirror-like quality. Only sometimes would they glow, whereas the rest of the 1sts were easily spotted in the dark without any sort of light, their eyes always alight from the massive amounts of mako in their bloodstreams. Zack tried to recall: when had he actually seen them glow?

He tried not to let his mind travel where it pleased, but in the dark, in the harsh, wretched weather, anything not having to do with the present was a welcome distraction. He tried to think about sunny beaches and long expanses of hot white sand under his feet. He tried to think of his mother and training with Angeal in the afternoons. He thought about Kunsel and spending hours in one of the dorms playing stupid card games to pass the time.

Then there was Sephiroth. He flushed when he thought about how many times he had waited patiently to have time to himself in the dorm of three. He would wait, try not to think about it, but the minute he started all he could think about was the last time the General had demonstrated something to him, or placed a hand on his shoulder (on one or two rare occasions) as a way of saying well done while verbally telling him he was shit with a sword and could use a couple thousand more hours of practice. Not that the spoken lashing did anything to quell the feelings that were progressively becoming stronger with each subsequent private lesson.

Zack had tried to keep upbeat about it all. The fact that the General seemed to hate him, but yet somehow found time to train with him here and there when Angeal wasn't around, kept his spirits up, at least slightly. That was until the disaster happened, where he decided shoving his tongue down his General's throat was somehow a brilliant idea (it certainly felt amazing). They hadn't spoken for two weeks afterward. Zack had never felt so low. He feared being taken out of the SOLDIER program for his lack of respect, but first and foremost, he feared the General would never want to be alone with him again.

It wasn't as if Sephiroth had protested. No, quite the contrary. Zack would have termed it 'making out' had it not been with the leader of Shin-Ra's entire army, but somehow it felt wrong to call it that. What made him the most embarrassed was how he'd moaned right into the man's mouth. He hadn't been able to help himself, and Sephiroth had only pulled him closer, his hands crushing the younger man.

He sighed. A lot worse had happened. He tried desperately not to remember what it felt like lay in silken sheets with long silver hair trailing down his chest. Zack gritted his teeth to the rain, chancing a glance at the starless, black sky. Ominous, it looked ominous, he thought glumly, eyes darting to the right at the sight of a silvery glimmer somewhere off in the darkness.

"It won't take long," the General breathed, appearing like an apparition out of the inky black.

Zack had to suppress a gasp of surprise, his pulse pounding suddenly from Sephiroth's unexpected nearness.

"What are we doing?" the 1st asked quietly, eyeing the older man. "This is…" he took a calming breath, "suicide. You have to see that, Seph."

The man's gaze seemed to darken at the nickname, catlike eyes narrowing to slits. "I think that is for me to decide, Fair." He said the boy's name like it was a curse, his voice little more than a deep hiss of annoyance.

"Just when I start to think you're real-" Zack shook his head. "Just when I think you're human, with feelings and motives, you go and do something like this." The anger was obvious in his voice, and he did nothing to conceal it. He didn't care. Not anymore. He had to say it, even if he knew what the consequences would be.

"You care," Zack said more loudly. "And it's _killing_ you inside," he added with conviction.

Zack was struck so quickly he didn't have time to react as the air was crushed from his lungs. It was like being hit with a truck; that was the only thing he could compare it to. One of those giant, artillery ones. He slid through the mud, the impact so heavy it made him appear boneless as he hit. His fingers clawed at the ground, and he stopped, wetter than ever and covered in muck. Nearby SOLDIERs had begun to step back, careful to keep themselves from the fray. They were right to fear the General's wrath. He looked like a demon, his hair bedraggled from lack of care, hanging at his sides like wayward serpents, like the locks of Medusa. The dirty, acidic rain was incessantly pouring down on them, deafening in its glory.

"Carry on!" Sephiroth snarled, turning to the men who dared to look on.

Like a spooked flock, they scattered, not daring to disobey. They continued to move ahead, leaving their General behind. The man watched them go, his vision blurred by the rain. Zack was breathing heavy, still lying where he had fallen. He was stiff, poised to rise quickly if need be. Lightning had begun to pierce the sky, nothing more than streaks of white across the seemingly impenetrable black canvas of stormy night.

The flashes illuminated Sephiroth's face in split seconds before it would go dark again. All Zack could see through the gloom were those eyes . . . . God how could he have never seen how horrible they were? He had only ever seen them so bright in lust—he remembered now-but there they were, nothing but anger and wicked, untamed fury. It was like looking on the devil. Zack shuddered, swallowing down what was welling up in the pit of his stomach. He felt like he wasn't even looking at Sephiroth anymore; it couldn't possibly be the same person.

In that moment, Zack was scared. He was more scared than he'd ever been.


End file.
